


logan in the corner

by TheDeviantSentByJericho



Series: Self-Preservation and Self-Loathing [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Caring Deceit | Janus Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders is a Good Friend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Janus is a good and baps it though, Logan's mind is just being a big meanie, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, Sad Logic | Logan Sanders, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Songfic, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, The light sides do care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27809425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDeviantSentByJericho/pseuds/TheDeviantSentByJericho
Summary: Inspired by logan in the corner by spectral heartLogan feels abandoned and ignored. It doesn't end well.Well, it does, eventually, but there's suffering in the meantime.
Series: Self-Preservation and Self-Loathing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038966
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89





	logan in the corner

Logan slumped against the door of his room. Finally alone, he was free to break down without anyone seeing- but with all they cared, he doubted they'd have noticed if he started sobbing in the courtroom.

Didn't they _know?_

Didn't they _care?_

He loved this format, he had so many things to say! He knew this topic! He could _do it!_ It would have been _fine!_

He could have handled it. Everything would have been fine if they'd just _trusted him._

But they didn't.

They didn't care.

It didn't matter if it was Logan or Deceit or _anyone else_ as long as someone did the job. They kept trying to say Logan was more than Logic, but was he really? All they seemed to care about was his job.

They had _benched_ him. 

He knew what they were talking about! He knew the answers to the points they were debating and he _wanted_ to tell them but they didn't let him. They didn't want him to.

And they fought, they fought, pressure and doubt filling him until it was all he could do to hold himself together, keep up the emotionless facade. Not that anyone would have noticed if he'd failed.

Fabric tugged against the door as he slid to the floor, covering his face with his hands, shoulders shaking with dry sobs.

Voices filled his head, unwanted, unrejectable.

_Logan the outdated,_

_Logan the least favourite,_

_Logan in the corner by **himself.**_

He wanted to argue with them, he did. But unlike with all of Virgil's depression and anxiety-induced thoughts, Roman's self-loathing falsehoods, Patton's desperate, painfilled beliefs, Logan's thoughts weren't deniable. They weren't defeatable by Logic because they were _true._

They were true.

No one wanted him.

No one cared about him.

He was worthless.

Pathetic.

Replaceable.

_They would be better off without me._

The thought surprised him, but he didn't push it away, as he knew he should have. Analyzing it, holding it in his mind's eye, searching for, _hoping for,_ a flaw, a mistake, an error- he found nothing.

It was true.

His death would make logical sense, he knew.

Standing, he considered it again, but his mind was already made up. He'd considered it for years, and now... Now he knew for sure. They didn't want him.

He decided against a note.

They didn't listen to him anyway.

_Logan in the backseat_

_‘Cause they’d sooner trust Deceit._

_There for **exposition,**_

_That’s his only position._

The courtroom was still there. Empty now, desolate. Dust drifted through the air, softly glimmering in the yellow light.

Where would he go? It had to be perfect. It had to show them all the things he couldn't bring himself to say.

The judge's chair?

No. Too dramatic, too blatant.

The seats where he'd been relegated to caught his eye.

They'd sent him there because they didn't want to see or hear from him.

Well, they never would have to again.

_Now I’m just **Logan** in the corner _

_Logan in the corner at a trial_

_I’m on the bench again._

Carefully, he sat down.

The seats gave softly under his weight, welcoming him as none of the other sides ever really had.

Was the trembling of his hands, shaking the pills in the bottle, from nerves or desperation? From the ever-growing need to be _free_ of the _pain_ that he didn't understand, the agony of _emotions_ that tear at his heart constantly? Or was it from the fearful hope, that someone would walk in, that someone would notice just this once, that someone would _stop me oh god please stop me!_

The lid of the bottle fell to the ground and he poured the pills into his hand.

_And I’m hearing the name Max Stirner;_

_Information that I knew_

_“I know! I know! **Please** , please, pick me!”_

1, 2, 3, 4, 12. Would it be enough? 

Yes. 

Bitterness on his lips, coating his tongue.

This was the end.

"I love you all." he admitted, quietly, his words cutting through the still air like a flame. "But you're better off without me."

He laughed dryly as he raised the last of the pills to his mouth.

"It's okay. I'm ready to die."

_You don't even know that liar's name_

_But somehow you prefer **him** all the same._

A hand, fixed around his wrist. Tight. He looked up.

“Don’t go,”

Deceit's voice is soft, quiet, sharp. 

Logan's is dull, empty, cool.

"Fancy seeing you here, Deceit."

  
A lopsided smile, devoid of humour or joy.

"With the lies you were telling, how could I not be?"

Straightening his tie, Logan raised an eyebrow. "I do not recall telling any lies."

Deceit mimicked his expression and voice. "''It's okay,'' Yes, because overdosing in an empty courtroom just _**screams** '_okay'."

Logan grunted and turned away.

"Logan." Deceit's voice softened. "This **is** **n't** my fault, isn't it?" 

Frowning, Logan attempted to decipher the backwards speech. "No, it was not. You merely helped point out something that is true. Something I should have realized was true a long, long time ago. But of course, my silly emotions got in the way."

"Lies." They weren't. Logan fully believed what he was saying. That was probably what hurt Janus the most. He didn't like seeing the blue side this way, as much as he'd known it was coming.

"Falsehood." 

Deceit sighed. "Care to explain what it **_isn't,_** then?"

Logan shrugged. "I am obsolete. Obsolete machines are destroyed."

_**I’ll** just keep my mouth closed and I’ll fade away _

_No need to stick around if I can’t participate._

"There's **nothing** wrong with that statement **at all** and somewhere deep inside of you, you know it." Deceit observed. 

No response.

Dee sighed.

"Firstly, you **are** a machine. Secondly, why would **n't** you believe you are obsolete?"

All of a sudden, vulnerability broke through Logan's mask of neutrality. "I'm-" He took a deep breath. "You are correct. But I _wish_ you were wrong."

_Shout, shout, shout, shout_

_I feel the pressure blowing up_

_Doubt, doubt, doubt, doubt_

_**My** big mistake – not showing up._

"I wish I were a machine! I wish they were right! I wish I didn't feel anything! But I do, I feel so much and it makes no sense and it _hurts!_ It hurts so _much_ and I don't know why!" 

Dimly, Logan was aware of tears bursting free, his voice raising far more than it should, far more than it had in all but his most rage-filled moments. 

"I'm..." his voice shook. "I'm broken. Broken things are thrown away. Facts are what I do, and facts say they'd... they'd be just fine without me."

"Lie." said Deceit softly.

He tried to turn away, but Deceit reached out and took his face in his hands. Yellow and brown eyes met. "Logan. You aren't broken, and even if you were, broken things can be fixed. Have you heard of kintsugi?"

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Logan frowned. Of course he knew. "Yes, it is the Japanese art form of repairing broken pottery with gold, silver, or platinum infused laquer. How is that relevant- _oh._ "

Deceit smiled. 

The yellow side's expression grew somber again. "I _am_ sorry about what I have said to you Logan, and that is not a lie."

Logan shrugged, not meeting his eyes. He was pretty sure Deceit wasn't lying here, but it didn't matter.

They were silent for a little while.

Eventually, Deceit stood up and extended a gloved hand to the other Side. "Would you like me to be with you when you tell them, little logic man, or would you prefer if I _hissed_ off?"

Logan definitely did **not** smile at the pun. "What do you mean, tell them? Surely we can let this little... lapse go? They don't need to know, it would break poor Patton's heart."

Unsmiling, Deceit nodded. "It **won't**. But you know what would hurt him more? Your death. I am self-preservation and that applies to you as well, but as much as I can be here when you try, I **will** make the mistake again of letting you stay quiet about your problems instead of getting help. One day, I may be too slow, and I **would** forgive myself for that."

Sighing, Logan nodded. "I... I suppose I see your point." Not that he believed it. "I..." Something in Deceit's words caught Logan's attention. "Again?"

Somehow, Deceit's face grew even sadder. "Again. But that story **is** mine to tell."

"Ah."

Silence fell once more, but it was a patient silence this time. 

When he was ready, Logan opened his mouth to speak.

"I think I can tell them on my own."

Deceit nodded. "I'll make sure you do." It didn't sound like a threat.

Logan started to sink out, then stopped. "Deceit?"

" **No?** "

"Thank you."

"You're **not** welcome."

_I look all around_

_But I can’t hear a sound_

_Not a voice calls out,_

_“_ _Don’t go,”_

**Author's Note:**

> the song that inspired this can be found here: https://youtu.be/7sBX0qsaUsk


End file.
